


A more expiditous route

by WaltzQueen



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Future Vision, Gen, Indrid get Stuck, TAZ Amnesty, indrid is a bitch and i love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-26 21:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19777096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaltzQueen/pseuds/WaltzQueen
Summary: * For those of you unfamiliar with it- Booking is when the books are aggressively slapped right out your hands. A common form of physical bullying.Can be viewed as ship or gen if you prefer.After ep 31 you cannot convince me Indrid wouldn't flirt but metaphorically pulling pigtails.





	1. Chapter 1

The dust is settling and Duck is settling into his new, very unwanted, position as ambassador to Sylvain. Aubrey would be a much better fit, but since she's currently half searching for the shattered pieces of Sylvain and half In the CRYSTAL In the CENTER OF THE EARTH (????!!!) it doesn't seem like she could add another full time job on top of that. Thacker is taking his time relearning the forest, like Duck wishes he could, when he's not in Sylvain's forests. Mama's an even better fit than Duck for the position, if we're all honest. The only downside being her complete and absolute retirement from any type of magic related bureaucracy, secrecy or any planning more complicated than maintaining Amnesty Lodge, effective the instant she got out of FBI custody.

Speaking of Amnesty Lodge, turns out a decent number of residents were in not so great standing with the powers that be. (His knee jerk reaction joke about the powers that be being Magic Powers That Be only gets a couple stares and he misses Ned and Aubrey something fierce as Janelle lays the news on him.) Any hope of them stepping up gets slapped out of his hands like he's back in middle school and Cleo Whitewater just decided to Book* him. Shit, he even tries for Agent Stern to take this from him but Aubrey's complaints about the agent ruining everyone's flow by staying at the lodge seem to have gotten around enough for the (magic) powers that be to have reservations.

Duck wants to refuse. He wants to take the job and shove it in the back of the Cryptonomica, under lock and key. But there's no Ned here to guard it anymore. God....fucking Ned. He coulda weaseled his way into the job but he's not around anymore so it's up to Duck. It's not so bad this time-being chosen. growing up has taught him he doesn't have to give up his life every time the world changes. He negotiates himself from full-time on-call down to Part-time barring emergencies. His heart lives in the forest, Magic or No.

So, long story short- there's a nifty little Magic Landline next to the regular phone in the ranger station now. Aubrey joked that it should have flames painted on it when she first came topside to see it. She was extraordinarily happy to see the shitty paper flames glued to the sign "Shit's On Fire Yo" behind it on her next visit, two months later. (That sign goes up in flames when she touches it, magic radiating from her spectral form transforming the shitty paper effigy of fire into the real deal. The resulting panic is both hilarious and ironic from an outside perspective. As a participant Duck's just pissed 'cause he shoulda known that sort of shit would happen. The next sign is fireproof, a decently painted steel plate. ) The phone is only for emergencies. Any and all calls made on it are to be solely indicative of things actually being on fire. Fucking this up could actually be world ending. Which means that,okay so-Alright, picture this...

Duck's right hand falls from his temple to the candy dish on the desk. Absently he grabs a dum-dum and unwraps it, eyes still on the budget reports. (For all the magic bluster, he's still a low-level forest ranger, as far as that sort of thing goes, and he's very aware of it when he's always the last one to be notified of any cuts. Don't that just beat all?) Duck lowers the sucker to his waist line and shoves it into Beacon's mouth. It's the only thing that will keep him quiet now that the magic cat's out of the metaphorical bag and he doesn't have to pretend to be a particularly horny belt buckle. Lord knows Duck doesn't need Beacon's sass while he's trying to get some work done.

It's been a busy week. It has only been four months since Earth formally shook hands with Sylvain and the limits of his office hours had been tested on multiple occasions. Presidents and Prime Ministers and Whatever the fuck China has calling on him at every opportunity it seems like. That's not even accounting for all the shuffling going on with maps of the forest. The top of Mt. Kepler sliding down the slope like the worlds most destructive example of Rise Over Run played havoc on all the wildlife. Two instances of animal attacks due to displaced Big Cats and four reports of fucking wolves which turned out to be coyotes. This isn't even getting into the influx of obnoxious tourists vandalizing the forest on their journey to upload footage of the gate to their Instagram albums. (Kirby's raking in the cash down at the Cryptonimica and Duck can't help but be a little bitter that the museum's success came under such circumstances)

He's tired, no he's fucking wiped. His energy levels are the lowest they've been since he got his Chosen One status back. If God himself descended from the alien filled heavens, leaned in the open window and told Duck to stay up another hour without a single cup of coffee or red bull or something, he'd just have to tell God to come back later. That being said that final can of redbull is empty and it's close to quitting time for good old Duck Newton.

Juno should be heading into the station any minute now and he can slap on his jacket and make the run back home and Juno can curse in envy as he goes. Duck is so ready to be done. Hot damn, he's gonna order himself a fucking pizza because Minerva recently learned how to use the oven properly and now they're out of the frozen ones. Pizza Hut has yet to recognize Aubrey's fledgling magic use as the reason for their need for a new sign, and Duck's going to take advantage of it before they get wise and hightail it out of town. Duck absently reaches over to grab the receiver when the phone rings. Not the one at his desk, the one on Juno's desk on the other side of the room. On one hand he should wait for Juno, on the other no one ever complained about someone else doing their work for them. Besides, it's probably another damn coyote incident, so he might as well get it over with.

"So, is this what you do all day? Start an inter-planet incident by ordering pizza?" Wonderful, just great.

"What are you talking about now, Indrid?"

"Indrid now, am I? I appreciate it. It's _so_ nice to be called by my name."

"Well, I'm sorry. I knew you as MothMan long before I actually met you. I slip up."

"Yes, I suppose _you_ of all people wouldn't mean it personally. Would you, _Duck_?" Duck feels the slight rubbing against him like sandpaper. "Anyway, you nearly caused a panic down at the local pizza place that would have escalated into a large scale firebombing wiping out half your city by using the wrong phone."

Duck's eyes slide back to his table and the two phones nestled close together like nesting birds. He draws Beacon, mouth still occupied with candy. The cord only goes so far, so he has to stretch a little but he pushes the Magic Phone away from the regular one with Beacon's blade. Over the receiver duck hears a little hum, pleased as punch and a touch smug.

"Well, usually it takes a lot more to prevent disasters from happening, but I seem to be more efficient than usual today. No zaniness required. Perhaps you would like some tips on the art?"

"Yeah, that's great, Indrid. It's not like there's a lot of need for zaniness to keep us from freaking out over the world ending anymore." He's a little annoyed, alright. it's not like he goofs and japes all day. Sometimes you need a little funny business to keep from loosing one's fucking marbles.

"I don't know, Duck. You did just almost destroy half your home town." Indrid's happiness with having gotten Duck's goat is literally audible. It almost makes him wonder if Indrid actually has Billy in his camper or something. "No, I don't have your goat friend here. In case you were about to ask. Don't bother lying about it either. You'll save us both a bit of trouble, hmm?" A flush creeps up Duck's neck. He's been caught out and he hasn't even lied yet.

"God damn it, Indrid. Why can't you ever foresee anything nice?"

"Haha, when's the last time you saw anything _nice_?" It's a jibe and he knows it, but he has a comeback ready.

"I saw us fighting the Quell with Minerva's portals. Which I'd call pretty fucking nice, thank you."

"And yet you couldn't see you were about to grab the red phone not the black one. " All at once the tiredness catches up with Duck like a Bombom going sixty miles per hour.

"Whatever, man. I just-Thanks. For telling me about the phones. " Duck sees Juno approaching the station, next shift's rangers on the back of her dirt-bike. "See you around, I guess."

"Yes, Duck. I'll be seeing you. Also, Duck? You should Duck now."

Duck drops to the floor. Overhead a mistimed swipe from a hawk sends a mourning dove careening in the open window. It misses him entirely and instead beans Adrika in the face as she opens the door. She drops the coffee she was holding with a shriek.

"Aw, beans."


	2. Chapter 2

Duck finds Indrid outside the bathroom.

The Governor of fucking where the hell ever aka Michigan has called Duck up here on official business. It's not forest work but it's still work. It doesn't take more than five hours, which is a real improvement over the days worth of solid grilling in foreign countries he encountered before he set himself some boundaries. At least the governor supplied some snacks. So now he's been fed and watered like he's a damn cat. That's nice and all he guesses, but now it means he's got to take a leak like a fire hydrant so he excuses himself to the gentleman's room as soon as they don't need him anymore.

On one hand he has to go pretty badly, on the other hand Indrid is frozen in place about a foot away from a plant in a fancy pot across from the bathroom entrance. He doesn't react to the people passing him by, giving weird looks or when a daring few wave their hands in front of his face. Someone must have called security on the rangy looking man wearing a tank top in this fancy government building because here they come and aw, shit. He's gotta Go, but he can't just leave Indrid.

"Hey, excuse me, officer." Duck's voice carries. An authoritative voice is one of the fringe benefits of being a chosen one and he doesn't get much mileage out of it but it's handy in situations like these. The security officer looks at Duck as he power walks over to the frozen seer. "Yeah, sorry to be a bother but could you leave him alone for a minute? He gets kind of stuck like this sometimes. He'll be fine in, like, a second."

"I'm sorry but we can't have him here blocking the hallway."

"Blocking t- He's basically a broom. There's no way he's blocking the hall. He's not even-Look. I know him, I can vouch for him. He's cool, alright." Duck's shifting from side to side, now. It can't possibly help him look any more trust worthy. There's the tinny sounds of a voice coming through an earpiece and the guard's expression shifts from inquiring to annoyed.

"Ten minutes," they say. "Or I'll have to have him escorted out." And they take off down the corridor.

"Oh thank god." Duck turns on his heel and wastes no time bolting into the bathroom. Indrid's still there when he gets out. And now Duck has a choice to make. Does he leave Indrid or stay? Duck's eyes catch a trace of movement. Indrid's hands are twitching, like he's drawing without a pencil. He's probably seeing the future from the looks of things. Duck wonders if it's a decent future or a teeth-falling-out future. Lord know he's had more of his fair share of the later. It's always rough waking up in the dark, lingering traces of defeat echoing in his skull.

  
  
Indrid's halfway through the Monongahela Forest novelty notepad when his sketching slows to a stop. Indrid examines the pen and paper that he was not holding before with a mild curiosity. The Seer blinks behind his red glasses for a moment and raises his head to focus on the park ranger standing in front of him.

"Duck? Oh. Hmm, I checked out for a bit, didn't i?"

"Seems so, buddy." Indrid turns the pen he's holding in his spindly fingers to point at the human.

"And you've replaced the plant?" The fancy potted plant is now two feet from where it originally was. 

"Yeah well, people kept trying to move you if they thought you were staring at a plant. So I figured If I stood here, it'd look sorta like a conversation was happening."

"And when they came close enough to see two grown men staring at each other?"

"I, just kinda rambled at you, I guess. It's not like they were sticking around to hear and you were off in FutureTown." Indrid flips through the notepad, not looking at it before flipping it closed.

"You know, Duck, this is more effort than most would usually go to for someone who's just standing there."

"I,um, figured you wouldn't wanna be moved. I know it's kinda disorienting sometimes when you-" And Indrid's voice joins Duck's as the two say "wake up from a vision."

"That's...kind of you, Duck."

"It's nothing, really."

"No, Duck. Usually I get left behind in non emergency situations." The little notebook in Indrid's spidery hand rustles under the slowly tightening pressure of his fist. "I understand it can be somewhat difficult to adjust for someone who has to randomly stop and reorient themselves after a round of uncontrolled visions. It's just how things are."

"Well, that's just fucking rude"Duck cuts in "I mean, not to judge your friends or whoever, but like, that uncalled for." Indrid's answering smile is a little sharp, a little mean.

"Not really my friends, per-say. Just some acquaintances." With a tone like that Duck has to wonder if they ever made a one way trip Back to Chicago."In any case I appreciate it. It's actually fairly rare to have someone who understands the post-future hangover."

"Well, you're in luck. We've got four future seeing chosen ones in Kepler. Just drive the 'Bago over when you want some commiseration. Just try to keep the parking in designated areas, okay? Some folks have been, i dunno, trying to summon folks- Slyvain folks - and I imagine it'd be shit for ol' anonymity to get caught up in that even by accident."  
Somewhere along the line the slowly curling fist has eased its grip and the cruel smile mellowed out into a non-malicious version of itself. Indrid pauses a bit, a snippet of a future flashing through his glassy eyes, and he opens a new page in the notebook. He draws a bit, pauses, and resumes. With a satisfied flourish Indrid marks his spot with a pen and hands the filled book over to the ranger in front of him.

"I might take you up on that. For now, I have to go prevent a bridge collapse. Ciao." With that, Indrid "MothMan" Cold strides away. Duck, now lacking a reason to stand in this government hallway for another twenty minutes, makes to do the same. He keeps half an eye on the people around him as he flips through the papers. Most of them are scratched out. There's one of a bridge. That must be where Indrid's headed off to. There's at least fifty cars in that picture, at a glance. Duck silently wishes Indrid luck as he continues flipping. At the very end there's a very familiar picture. It's the Winnebago, parked in front of Amnesty lodge where Dani is just leaving.  
He wonders if this is the prophet equivalent of giving someone your phone number. He tears the drawing loose, folds it and puts it in his chest pocket.


	3. Chapter 3

The apartment hallways are dim. Construction work sometimes means power outages, and while he'd love to have main street back to being a street it's still annoying as all hell to come home to a dark apartment and a melting freezer. Duck barely has his key in his hand when Indrid appears and bodychecks him aside. The glasses are off, meaning he's a fair bit larger than his usual skin and bones frame, so Duck stumbles a bit as Indrid 'MothMan' Cold bears down on him.

"Fuck, Indrid! Wha-" A chitinous hand goes over Duck's mouth hurriedly as Indrid pantomimes silence. Then he is being led out of the dark apartment building by the hand. Every so often he stops and leans back his insectoid head, staring into nothing before resuming the quiet journey out into the street. The glasses go back on, Indrid loops one arm behind Duck and whispers "Act natural but don't stop moving."

It's only when they are on the other side of town, right past the new PreterNatural Cultural Center, that Indrid stops.

"Well, thanks for that, Indrid. mind telling me what you're saving me from?"

"Well, If you must know, it seems that someone got wind of yours and Thacker's investigations on the pieces of Sylvain's Crystal and didn't want to give them up."

"So what, they sent an assassin after me?" Duck's mostly joking but also a good thirty five to forty percent serious. "How the fuck they'd get past Minerva?"

"More along the lines of a pipe bomb, actually. And she's out discovering Thai Fusion." Duck's stomach drops. He nearly got pipe bombed to literal goddamn death. Holy Shit. He's Tough, but a bomb's a bomb. Good thing Winnie's at the Vet for an overnight.That feline food poisoning was good for something after all.

"I've already called the appropriate authorities, but they won't arrive for another eighteen minutes, give or take. So I figured a more interesting diversion would do us some good, while they get that all sorted out." Indrid jerks his head to the left. Duck's almost afraid to look but it can't be worse than a pipe bomb so what the hey.

It's a party. There's a Naga and a couple minotaurs manning a grill while few human shaped people duck recognizes as Amnesty Lodge residents chill at the picnic tables. Everyone is having a good time when, as if drawn by the law of nature a stiff in a suit comes out of nowhere and zeros in on the party. She talks a little with some of the picnic goers but even from here he can tell the conversation is getting uncomfortable.

Duck sees her swipe someone's sandwich of their plate while their head is turned. It's a douche move and it's not even his sandwich but he's mad about it. The sandwich-less werewolf, Duck's pretty sure that guy's a werewolf, says something but he can't quite make it out. Duck can sure hear it as the food thief laughs loudly and says "Karma isn't real!"

At that point it just becomes slapstick. She takes another bite of pilfered food and the world's most enterprising and most displaced seagull comes swooping in. It divebombs her like a Predator, just right in there. In her panic she jumps up and stumbles backwards and knocks a bowl full of coleslaw onto her feet. She instinctively steps back but the coleslaw isn't making things easy for her.Next thing you know she's covered in coleslaw and stolen sandwich and heading into the PreterNatural Cultural Center for shelter.

Duck can't help it, he's busting a gut. The terror from his almost-bombing dissipates as he fails to catch his breath, nearly on the ground. Indrid is right next to him, sliding his skinny fingers under his glasses, wiping the tears from his eyes as he cackles. Indrid and Duck, the two of them are absolutely loosing it."We-ahaha-we shou-we shouldn't laugh."

"She's part of Muffy and Winthrop's poaching club. Laugh all you want."

"Couldn't have-hahaha -Couldn't have happened to a nicer person." If Duck's laugh is a little stronger after that Indrid won't tell anyone.

**Author's Note:**

> * For those of you unfamiliar with it- Booking is when the books are aggressively slapped right out your hands. A common form of physical bullying.
> 
> Can be viewed as ship or gen if you prefer.  
> After ep 31 you cannot convince me Indrid wouldn't flirt but metaphorically pulling pigtails.


End file.
